


Couple Displacement Therapy

by PrettyCalypso



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Couple therapy, Explicit Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mickey's POV, Wife Swap AU, mentions of Terry Milkovich - Freeform, mickey is a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:59:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyCalypso/pseuds/PrettyCalypso
Summary: Mickey and Svetlana go to couple therapy and their doctor suggests a "spouse swap".





	Couple Displacement Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** Mickey and Svetlana met and ended up married in the same way than in the show (but I never explicitly mention it). Terry is not physically present in this fic but he is a constant threat to Mickey's safety.

 

Mickey looked at his wife drink in every word their therapist was selling her. Somehow, he had let himself be convinced to “give therapy a try”. Svetlana was gorgeous, there was no denying that, and a pretty decent life partner, but Mickey was just not interested, mainly because of what she – didn't – have between her legs. He didn't understand why she kept on pushing, why she spent all of her energy trying to “save” a marriage that had no chance of surviving in the first place, she knew perfectly well where her husband's preferences fell, and yet she seemed to have some type of hope. Marriage counseling was her last thing, and Mickey had accepted, not because he had nothing better to do – doing literally nothing would be more interesting than sitting in a therapist office for two hours per week talking about their relationship and “feelings” – but because he needed to keep up appearances, he needed to stay a happily married man to this crazy Russian ex-prostitute for a little longer, for his own safety. And maybe also because he didn't want to hurt his son.

 

The therapist was a 40-something woman with brown skin and heavy brown hair, little square glasses – because of course she had glasses – and who's office was too colorful and smelled too much like incense for Mickey's taste. She wore these long shirts and dresses with flowers on them, and wrote notes down in a small black notebook, pausing every few minutes to mutter these exasperating “hum... I see...”. Mickey fucking hated this cliché of a woman, and he fucking hated coming here but, once again, he swallowed his annoyance down and just sat next to his wife on the red and blue couch covered with pillows, looking mildly interested and answering vaguely and noncommittally when asked a question he couldn't avoid.

 

Dr Douglas actively listened to Svetlana's last complaint about her husband, nodding her head and scribbling some notes down.

 

“I see...” she – without surprise – said once Svetlana was done with her rambling. “What do you think, Mickey?”

 

Mickey shrugged, he wasn't even sure what they had been talking about. Dr Douglas watched him intently for a few too long seconds and smiled.

 

“I think I know what you both need.” she declared. “Now, it's not something I recommend to every couple, as it's a little... 'out there', and not all therapists approve, but I truly believe it could work in your case.”

 

Svetlana moved slightly forward in her seat, ready to absorb whatever crap their doctor was about to lay out, and Mickey tried his very best not to roll his eyes.

 

“I think we should try couple displacement therapy.”

 

They both looked at her with wide eyes, having no idea what these words meant and waiting for her to continue.

 

“When a couple is in extreme distress,” Dr Douglas explained. “I find it helpful sometimes to place them in an alternative environment.”

 

Again, Mickey didn't understand what the hell she was getting at. Dr Douglas gave another little smile.

 

“I mean a literal swapping of the spouses.”

 

“What?”

 

“The hell?”

 

Mickey and Svetlana exchanged a look. This therapy session was getting seriously weird, and Mickey started to really distrust the hippie vibe he was sensing around the office.

 

“You want us to like... find another couple to 'spice things up' or some shit?”

 

“No.” Dr Douglas laughed. “I will match you with another couple I follow, and you will exchange spouses for a limited amount of time. The new couples aren't sexually intimate, but in every other way they interact and live together like a married couple. It allows the spouses, when they are reunited, to better communicate and compromise.”

 

“Like the TV show?” Svetlana supplied.

 

“Pretty much.” Dr Douglas nodded, giving them once again one of her annoying smiles. “Except with less cameras and more psychological support.”

 

As Svetlana seemed genuinely interested and started asking more questions, mostly technical, Mickey tuned her out. This idea was fucking stupid. He couldn't stand his own wife, he didn't know how he could stand somebody else's, and even less how that could help their marriage. But, on the other hand, it would buy him a couple of weeks away from Svetlana and, if he was lucky, the other wife wouldn't be that much of a pain in the ass.

 

“Okay, we'll do it.” he agreed without consulting his wife, who turned her head toward him and sent him one of her threatening looks she used when he made a decision without her. “What? You want to save our marriage, right? If the doc says it's the right move, then why not.”

 

Svetlana seemed pleasantly surprised by his willingness to follow their therapist's advice and agreed without putting more of a fight.

 

***

 

Svetlana had spent the last two days cleaning up the house non-stop and making sure that all of their family and friends knew that she was going to “visit a sick relative in Kentucky”. After agreeing to all of Dr Douglas' terms, the therapist had sprung on them the unexpected and horrifying surprise that the couple they were going to swap with was composed of two men. A fucking gay couple. Dr Douglas had said that they were the only other couple in her care who also needed the swap, but Mickey had seen his entire life flash before his eyes, already imagining being beaten to death for living with a man “as a married couple” for two weeks. So he had put down some conditions, for his own safety: nobody could know what they were doing, Svetlana was pretending to go to Kentucky for a while (the other couple actually lived in the North Side of Chicago, as opposed to their shitty South Side), their son would spend the next two weeks with Mickey's sister, and Mickey needed a paying (male) roommate to make up for the lack of income Svetlana's absence would bring. It was one big stretch that was probably too sophisticate to work, but it was the best they could come up with, and Mickey really couldn't afford his dad hearing about him suddenly loosing his wife and living with a gay man, that was NOT an option.

 

So Svetlana had spent the last few days cleaning the house from top to bottom – no pun intended – claiming that two men living together would result in the place becoming a pigpen way too soon for her to handle, and Mickey better had to clean up before she came back. He nodded, not really paying attention to her badgering, being too nervous anticipating the next two weeks of his life. He really hoped the guy wouldn't be too much of a fairy, would look straight enough to keep their cover clean. He didn't once considered the possibility that he could be attracted to that man, but when he opened the door on the first morning of the swap, he internally swore to all the gods and devils for his bad luck. The guy was so beautiful, it hurt Mickey's closeted eyes and brain.

 

“Hi.” the guy said with a smile, extending his hand for Mickey to shake. “I'm Ian Gallagher.”

 

Mickey promptly ignored the hand, and stepped away from the door, walking back into his house, making it clear to the other man that he should follow and possibly close the door behind himself.

 

“You must be Mickey.” the guy continued, not at all concerned by Mickey's evident lack of manners.

 

“How d'you figure that, Einstein?” Mickey snickered, lighting a cigarette – Svetlana usually didn't let him smoke in the house, but right now she wasn't there and he really fucking needed one.

 

“I took a wild guess.”

 

Ian's ironic tone was pleasant, at least he wasn't a shy virgin offended by Mickey's rudeness and he had some fight back. Living with him for two weeks could maybe be slightly less of a nightmare – just slightly, and just maybe.

 

Mickey took a long drag and exhaled the smoke away from the guy's face, dropping his eyes to the fully packed duffel bag at his feet. He walked to the kitchen to tap some ashes from his cigarette into an almost empty bottle of beer and pointed to the doors in the hallway.

 

“You can put your stuff in the room on the right. It's my son's bedroom, you'll sleep there.”

 

Their house was smaller than the one he had grew up in – and that was already a shithole – with only two bedrooms and one bathroom, but it was enough for a family of three, and at least they didn't live under his father's roof anymore.

 

“You have a son?” Ian asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “He's not staying here?”

 

“Fuck no.” Mickey scoffed. “He's at my sister's. He thinks his mom is in Kentucky visiting her great aunt, and I'll go see him every day, or every two days, but we don't want him involved in this shit. What a great fucking way to fuck a kid up, mommy and daddy exchanging partners for two weeks.”

 

Ian let out a strange sort of strangled laugh, his eyes getting lost somewhere on the tile flooring for only a few seconds, before a polite smile was back on his lips.

 

“How old is he?” he asked softly.

 

“You're not gonna meet him if that's what you're hoping.”

 

“No, I don't...” Ian stuttered, blushing so slightly Mickey almost missed it. “I was just wondering.”

 

Mickey seized the guy up, looking at him from head to toe, from toe to head. He always felt this crazy need of protection when it came to his son, to the point where he hesitated disclosing his age to an almost stranger. But Ian seemed cool enough and not like a scary pedophile.

 

“He's 5.”

 

Ian nodded, Mickey finished his cigarette, and there was an odd silence between them for a couple of minutes, before Mickey spoke again.

 

“'Kay, I gotta go to work. Keys are on the table, and well... we're supposed to live like a married couple, right? So my home is your home and all that shit, just don't go snooping around in my stuff. I'll be back around six I guess. See ya.”

 

He didn't even let Ian reply before he was out of the door and into the street. He needed to breath. And maybe another cigarette. Fuck, what kind of messed up situation had he gotten himself into?

 

***

 

Mickey's job wasn't the most interesting thing in the world, it was even boring most of the time, but, once in a while, he got to tackle down a kid trying to steal an iPhone or run after a thug for snatching an old lady's purse. Being a mall cop was the most legal way he had found to both make money and give people a beat down when they deserved it, and at least he wasn't involved in his family's “business” anymore, so things could have been worse.

 

He came back home after a long day of starting at a screen on which nothing happened, his neck stiff from staying in the same position for hours, and he had almost forgotten about the spouse swap until he was met with a tall and sexy redhead in his kitchen.

 

“Welcome home, honey.”

 

Mickey raised both eyebrows at the greeting. Who even was this guy?

 

“What?” Ian laughed at his expression. “I'm playing the part.”

 

“Yeah, don't, it's weird.”

 

“Not into pet names?”

 

“Not by a guy, one. And two, Svetlana would only ever call me 'honey' on my death bed, if she ever did.”

 

Mickey tried to ignore his growling stomach at the sight of the food Ian was cooking, and opened the fridge to grab a cool beer. He could sense the guy's eyes on him as he opened the bottle. Mickey sighed.

 

“You want one?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Mickey turned back to the fridge and grabbed another beer for his... fake husband? Temporary life partner? He averted his eyes when Ian's strong grip opened the cap, and tried to peek at what was cooking, but he could still feel the other man's gaze on him.

 

“What?”

 

Ian took a gulp of his beer, staring intently at Mickey.

 

“Do you... Do you have a problem with me being gay?”

 

Mickey was pretty sure Ian could hear his heart suddenly beating at twice its normal rate, and he tried to stay composed, casually sipping on his beer.

 

“No, dude.” he managed to speak without his voice cracking. “Fuck who you want, I don't give a shit.”

 

Ian nodded, finally looking down, playing with the label on the bottle.

 

“I wasn't sure, you know, coming into this neighborhood. I figured if you were okay with the swap it should be okay, but we never know...”

 

Even though Mickey knew his neighborhood was shit and some people were total homophobes – he was still married to a woman for a reason – he still felt offended by Ian's words and his dismissal of the place he had lived in all of his life.

 

“Fuck you.” he spat. “You come on your high horse from fucking North Side thinking we're all a bunch of retarded and violent thugs? I don't think so.”

 

“I'm really not.” Ian quickly said. “I grew up a few streets away from here, I know what it's like. I was only out to my family and never dated anyone publicly until I got out, I was too afraid to get fag bashed. I didn't want to live that again, even if for only two weeks.”

 

And just like that, Mickey was taken aback.

 

“You're South Side?”

 

“Born and raised.” Ian smiled, almost proudly. “Shitty parents who were never there, my older sister took care of us six, we barely had enough money to both have food on the table and keep the electricity running. I'm really not judging, I've just been there and don't wish to live it again.”

 

Mickey nodded. It was fair, he felt the same way. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

 

***

 

Turns out, Ian made a mean meat loaf, and Mickey couldn't help the moans coming out of his mouth as he enjoyed every bite of it. And it apparently amused Ian a lot. Mickey raised a middle finger in his direction, he wanted to enjoy his food without being judged, fuck you very much. Ian shook his head with a small laugh.

 

“So,” he started. “What made you and Svetlana want to swap?”

 

“I could ask you the same question, Red.”

 

Ian must have sensed that Mickey would not answer first, so he gave in and started telling his story.

 

“Caleb cheated on me, I wanted to break up, he begged me to give him another chance. We started seeing Dr Douglas about six months ago, but I felt like we were kinda stuck in place, so when she suggested the swap I thought it couldn't hurt.”

 

“You're lucky he's gay.” Mickey snorted. “Cause agreeing to a spouse swap with a cheater is fucking stupid.”

 

“He's bi actually.” Ian blushed. “He cheated on me with a woman.”

 

“And you sent him to Svetlana?” Mickey actually laughed this time. “Dude, you're screwed. And not in the fun way!”

 

Ian chuckled too.

 

“I know, I wanted him to come here, less chance of cheating with a straight guy, right? But he didn't want to leave the comfort of his home, especially not for the South Side, and because I'm the one who insisted on the swap...”

 

“Sounds like a fucking asshole.”

 

“Yeah, I know how to pick them...”

 

Ian stared at his plate for a moment, looking lost in his thoughts, before he snapped his head back up with a smile.

 

“Now you have to tell me your story.”

 

Mickey sighed. What story? The fake happy one for the public or the horrors that had happened behind closed doors? He opted for the first option with just a tiny hesitation he shouldn't even have had.

 

“We've been married for six years now. The house, the kid, the perfect little family, I guessed we were starting to get bored, stuck in the routine, so when Svet thought we should give therapy a try I thought why not. And I guess the swap is just an extension of that, see if it unstuck things.”

 

He shrugged. The story was boring even to his own ears, but he had told it enough times now that he could have convinced himself it was the truth. Ian's smile probably meant he was buying it too.

 

They finished eating dinner in silence, and when they started doing the dishes together, Mickey didn't even try to get out of it like he usually did with Svetlana, they just stood side by side by the sink, like they had been doing it all of their life.

 

“So what do you do Mickey?” Ian asked at some point. “What's your job?”

 

“Security guard at the mall on 71st and South Jeffery. You?”

 

“EMT.”

 

“Ah, saving lives. Got some kind of hero complex?”

 

“Probably.”

 

Their conversation stayed light after that, laughing and talking about random stuff until they decided to watch a movie – a 1980s action flick from Mickey's collection – and argued about the best actor. It was easy, too easy, hanging out with Ian, and Mickey didn't think about it until he was alone in bed that night – in the bed that he usually shared with his wife. It had never, ever, been that easy with Svetlana, every interaction was a struggle, and the mask they had to put on in front of their son was exhausting, but with Ian... Mickey didn't want to think about what it meant to be so comfortable around a guy he barely knew. It scared the shit out of him.

 

***

 

Mickey woke up with a text from Svetlana. She never texted him except for emergencies, and that thought alone finished to wake him up as he sat up in his bed.

 

[From Svetlana] My guy is dumb piece of shit.

 

That was it? That was her text? That Caleb-whatever was a dumb piece of shit? If Mickey wasn't so relieved that everything was okay with their kid or his sister, he would have been almost disappointed by the lack of originality in the text. He quickly typed a response.

 

[To Svetlana] Mine's decent I guess.

 

He pressed the sent button and checked the time. It was still early enough that if he rushed his shower and skipped breakfast he could pick his son up from his sister's and drive him to school. He got ready as fast as planned and, just as he was about to leave, he turned back around to write Ian a small note saying that he went to work and would be back for dinner. He also wrote down his phone number, just in case. He didn't know why he was bothering to do these little things that he never did for his own wife, or, rather, he did but preferred to ignore it.

 

***

 

Yevgeny was a little chatterbox in the morning – and all the time actually – and it was hard to endure without his usual morning coffee, but Mickey was still glad whenever he spent some alone time with his son. The kid seemed pretty happy to stay at Aunt Mandy's for a couple of weeks, taking it as a vacation in which he could eat ice cream sundays for dinner and stay up late to watch movies – Mickey had to talk to his sister about this by the way, she shouldn't spoil his son so much – but he still asked about his mom and didn't understand why he couldn't just stay with his dad while she was away. Mickey didn't feel like bullshitting an excuse, so he just changed the subject. Maybe one day he would tell Yevgeny the truth, or maybe they will all eventually forget about these two short weeks in the grand scheme of things.

 

“Daddy, are you going to put me to bed tonight?” the little boy asked just as Mickey parked his car in front of the school.

 

His big blue eyes were hard to resist and Mickey hated that he had to say no, but he knew his work schedule didn't allow it.

 

“Sorry, buddy, I won't. But this weekend, I promise.”

 

Yevgeny nodded, not hiding his pouting lips. Somehow, somewhere along the lines, Mickey had gotten more than attached to this little human. He wasn't sure how or when it happened, but now he couldn't imagine his life without this child he had never wanted in the first place. And, as he dropped the boy in his classroom, he promised himself to spend as much time with his son as possible during the weekend, fuck the swap and fuck Ian, the redhead would just have to find a way to entertain himself while Mickey would be unavailable, too busy parenting.

 

***

 

“So, what do you usually do on a week night?” Ian asked as they were sharing a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. “I'm guessing it's a little different with a child around.”

 

That was true. And also, Svetlana and Mickey rarely ate together only the two of them. When, for some reason, they weren't able to share dinner with Yevgeny, they both did their own thing without the other. They weren't very good at spending time alone as a couple. Mickey didn't share any of that with Ian though.

 

“There's just one more person around the table, that's it.” he shrugged. “And we have to take care of him you know, make sure he brushes his teeth and goes to bed early, all that. We have less time just the two of us.”

 

“Still,” Ian smiled tightly. “It must be pretty fulfilling to have a child.”

 

Mickey looked up at his fake husband/temporary life partner. The guy looked almost sad.

 

“You want kids, Gallagher?”

 

The redhead used his fork to toy around with the food on his plate, never meeting Mickey's glaze.

 

“I do. But it's not as easy for us, non-straight couples, we can't just... do it. And Caleb is not... Well he's not really into children, says he doesn't want any.”

 

“What the fuck are you doing with that guy?” Mickey knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help himself, this Caleb sounded like a tool, and something deep inside him ached at the idea of Ian suffering. “I don't mean to be an asshole, but you look fucking miserable every time you talk about him, you're clearly not happy. And even Svetlana can't stand him.”

 

Ian looked up at Mickey's last admission.

 

“You talked to her?”

 

“She texted me this morning. The woman's a bitch, but she's a good judge of character, and she wasn't kind to your guy.”

 

Ian stared intensely at Mickey, like he was trying to see through him, or to read his thoughts – and that last option was scary. Mickey tried not to let anything transpire, and finally Ian dropped his gaze and just shook his head.

 

***

 

The moment when he knew he was doomed came later that night, as Mickey was lying alone in bed, in the darkness of his room. He was fidgety and knew he needed some release, but when he lowered his hand down in his boxers and started touching himself, he realized that his mind was stuck on the man sleeping in the very next room and he couldn't do anything about it.

 

***

 

Mickey woke up a little later than usual, after a rough night of too many dreams, most of them sexy, all of them including Ian, and he was glad that the door to the bedroom used by his guest stayed close as he got ready for work.

 

He stopped two robberies that day. Well, robbery was a big word, let's just say he stopped a 13-year-old girl from stealing a handful of jewelry and a 20-something guy (who reminded him too much of his brother) from snatching a laptop on display. So, all in all, a day active enough to avoid thinking about his new roommate.

 

When he came home that night, Ian wasn't there, but there was a pot of delicious smelling stew on the stove and a note saying that the redhead was working a night shift. Mickey considered for a moment telling the guy that he didn't have to cook dinner every day, but his stomach convinced him otherwise. Ian was doing it voluntarily without anybody asking him too, he could stop if he wanted to, but until that happened Mickey was going to enjoy good food that tasted much better than Svetlana's weird Russian dish.

 

***

 

Mickey didn't hear Ian come home that night – not that he was trying to – but his bladder and a too heavy dream woke him up in the wee hours of the morning. He walked to the bathroom still half asleep, rubbing his eyes, and opened the door to find a stark naked Ian just stepping out of the shower. They both froze, and Mickey was suddenly very much awake. His eyes dropped from Ian's face to the length hanging between his legs, without missing the chiseled muscles of his chest. He felt very hot all over, and turned around, trying his best not to be a blushing mess.

 

“Sorry.” Ian apologized and Mickey could hear him rummaging around the bathroom. “Just came back from work, I didn't think you would be awake, shouldn't have locked the door.”

 

It's fine, Mickey wanted to say, it's very fine. He took a deep breath and shook himself out of the dirty thoughts invading his brain.

 

“Just put some fucking clothes on.” he mumbled before walking back to his bedroom, forgetting all about his demanding bladder.

 

***

 

Mickey hadn't been able to go back to sleep. He laid awake in his bed for the remaining hours of the night, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to his roommate, about all the reasons why it was wrong, and about what his dad would do if he ever found out. He finally left his bed at six, avoided the shower and had a very healthy breakfast of one cigarette and a cup of the strongest coffee he could handle. He then drove all the way to his sister's – who told him he looked like shit – and took Yevgeny to school. For once he was glad that his son had so much stuff to say, and he listened to the very detailed summary of Finding Dory, distracting him from the other intense thoughts in his head.

 

Ian was home that night, his usual smiley self, getting a cauliflower and bacon casserole ready. He chatted happily about random stuff, telling anecdotes from work that Mickey wasn't listening to. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, a beer in his head, his eyes fixed on the floor to avoid looking at the cheerful redhead. He counted the tiles, noted that some of them weren't quite straight – the irony of it wasn't lost on him – and the one in the far left corner was even broken. He didn't notice when Ian stopped talking, but he noticed when the redhead invaded his personal space and when he kissed him. Mickey snapped out of his thoughts immediately and took a step back.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

Ian's cheeks reddened and he raised his hands in surrender.

 

“I... I don't know, I just...”

 

“Don't fucking touch me again.” Mickey barked, and he marched to his bedroom, slamming the door shut, dinner be damned – he wasn't hungry anyway.

 

***

 

He hated that his lips tingled from Ian's interrupted kiss, and he hated that he had to stop himself from walking back into the kitchen to finish what the redhead had started. He lied down in bed, above the covers, fully clothed, for what felt like hours. His eyes wide open, looking up at the ceiling he could barely discern in the darkness.

 

His phone buzzed with an incoming text message at one point, and it took him a minute to muster the strength and energy to open it.

 

[From Ian] You awake?

 

Mickey wanted to ignore it, he wanted the redhead to disappear, to leave and never come back, but instead he typed three letters and sent it.

 

[To Ian] yes

 

The response came almost immediately.

 

[From Ian] Can we talk?

 

Again, Mickey hated his fingers for not listening to his brain and common sense.

 

[To Ian] ok

 

He didn't move from his bed, but about thirty seconds later, there was a soft knock on his door. He didn't say anything, and Ian apparently didn't need him to, he pushed the door open, walked in, and came to sit on the edge of Mickey's bed. The light from the hallway was enough for them to see almost clearly, and Mickey's eyes were fixed on Ian's arched back, facing away from him. They stayed silent for a too long moment before the redhead finally said what he had bothered Mickey for.

 

“So, how gay are you?”

 

“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.”

 

Ian turned around, and Mickey's eyes traveled to his bedside table.

 

“On a scale from 'I occasionally like kissing dudes' to 'my wife is my beard and I'm a big old 'mo', how gay are you?”

 

Mickey didn't answer these outrageous insinuations, he didn't owe Ian anything. He crossed his arms on his chest and kept his eyes fixed on the so-interesting wooden bedside table on his side of the bed.

 

“Don't know what you're talking about.”

 

Ian emitted a small chuckle and climbed further on the bed, lying on his side next to Mickey. Mickey could sense the redhead's intense gaze on him, sending fire all over his body, but he didn't move, he was almost too stiff, not breathing enough. And then, Ian dropped a hand on his covered crotch and started rubbing, and Mickey let out a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, and the redhead apparently took that as a sign to continue because soon he was unbuttoning Mickey's jeans and sliding his hand inside his boxers. Mickey was already starting to get hard, but when he felt Ian's long fingers on him, he jumped right to full on wood.

 

“Shit.”

 

Ian stroked him a few more times and suddenly took his hand away. Mickey opened his eyes at the outrage and saw the redhead taking his pants fully off. Mickey wiggled his hips to help him before reaching for Ian's own jeans. He unbuttoned them as Ian took his shirt off, and then the redhead was asking for lube and condoms. Mickey pointed to Svetlana's bedside table.

 

“Don't ask.”

 

Ian didn't ask, and he walked around the bed, shirtless with his open pants hanging low on his hips. He came back to stand above a butt naked Mickey still lying on the bed.

 

“How do you want to...”

 

It had been six years since Mickey had last been with a man, but he didn't hesitate a second when he turned around on his belly, indicating his preference very well. Ian did a fast – if not a little sloppy – job of opening him up, and then a big, hard, and real life human dick was pushing inside of Mickey. He almost cried in a mix of relief and pain, and bit his pillow to keep any noise from coming out of his mouth. The worse part of Mickey finally giving up to his most sinful desires was that it wasn't even good. Ian's movements were uncoordinated and awkward, hitting all of the wrong angles.

 

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Mickey asked after a particularly painful thrust.

 

“Fuck, sorry.” Ian panted, and a few seconds later he was pulling out.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed and dropped his head, covering his face with his hands. Mickey turned back on his ass and settled against the headboard.

 

“I'm sorry.” Ian repeated, his voice muffled by the skin of his palms. “I just... I can't stop thinking about the fact that I'm cheating on Caleb, and that we're using your wife's lube in your wife's bed, and I don't know how long it's been since you... and I just... it threw me off my game.”

 

Mickey sighed and grabbed his pack of cigarettes – Svetlana would kill him for smoking in there, but he apparently wasn't so concerned about his safety anymore, if Ian's dick up his ass a couple of minutes ago was any indication.

 

“You want one?”

 

The redhead nodded and they smoked in silence.

 

“Why are you doing all that?” Ian asked as he almost reached the end of his smoke. “Going to couple therapy, the swap, all of it. Do you really want to save your marriage?”

 

Mickey shrugged. No, he knew there was nothing to save in the first place, he just wanted to keep up appearances.

 

“My dad.” he admitted. “He lives a couple of blocks down, and I never see him, I don't want my son to meet him, but if Svet and I split up... He would know. He would come barging through the front door and kill me with his bare hands.”

 

“So you pretend.” It wasn't a question. “You pretend to be a normal couple needing therapy after six years of marriage.”

 

Mickey nodded, and he crushed the butt of his cigarette on the wooden bedside table.

 

“Can I ask...” Ian started, hesitantly. “Do you ever... Do you have sex with her?”

 

Mickey almost shuddered at the idea, but decided to play it straight and cool.

 

“We have a son, man.”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

He smiled at Ian's disappointed face.

 

“I think the last time I touched her was like... three, four years ago? She was in one of her pissy moods, babbling about telling my dad... We fought. It was... not pretty. She told me she would shut up if we had another kid. Long story short, it was probably the second worse night of my life. Next morning I told her it would never happen again, if she wanted another kid so bad she could just go and find some random dude to fuck. We never mentioned it again, she threatened me a few more times but it never got that far, and she never had her other kid.”

 

Ian was silent, looking down at the burned down cigarette between his fingers.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't be.”

 

That night, Mickey fell asleep in Ian's strong arms, and he never felt safer.

 

***

 

Waking up in the arms of another man was something Mickey never thought he would do, ever. His first reflex should have been to jump out of bed and punch him in the dick, but, instead, he gripped the arm around his waist a little tighter. Ian was snuggling close, his hold lose enough to let Mickey breathe, and his face buried in Mickey's neck. It was... perfect. Everything from his smell to his warmth worked to appease Mickey and calm down the anxiety he should have been overwhelmed with. He allowed himself a few more minutes of this, before he had to get up and get ready for work. He didn't wake Ian up and left the house silently.

 

That night, he came back home to the smell of pizza cooking in the oven, and they both settled on the couch in front of a movie. They didn't talk about what had happened the night before, but it wasn't awkward, they just casually hung out. When the pizza and the movie were finished, Mickey collected the few empty bottles of beer on the coffee table and went to throw them away. He then started to wash the tray Ian had cooked the pizza on, and he felt arms wrapping around his waist from behind, and a kiss being dropped in his neck. He let the tray fall in the sink when Ian's hand slid down his chest and unbuttoned his jeans, his fingertips running up and down, teasing the trail of hair leading down from his belly button to his groin. Mickey's hips automatically pushed back against Ian's, and the redhead's fingers slid further down, finding the tip of Mickey's dick and stroking down and back up again. Ian kissed his neck some more, tiny little pecks that made his skin twitch and burn. His hand started working more firmly, his grip tighter, and Mickey groaned, his ass grinding with more intent against Ian's crotch. The redhead moaned and his hand moved faster, slightly harder, his thumb flicking gently across the tip in a way that made Mickey shudder. He bit his bottom lip, he knew he wasn't going to last, and with one last flick of Ian's expert hand, he was coming all over the inside of his boxers. Ian panted hotly against the skin of his neck for another moment, before he retreated and stepped away from Mickey, leaving him suddenly too cold.

 

“Do you want me to...” Mickey jerked his hand vaguely toward Ian's bulge in his pants. “Return the favor or some shit?”

 

“No, it's okay.” Ian smiled. “I was just giving.”

 

Mickey didn't really know what to say to that, he had never been with somebody who didn't asked for anything in return after such an amazing hand job.

 

“Okay.” he simply said. “I'm gonna go to bed then.”

 

He started walking away toward the bedroom but quickly noticed that Ian was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, so he spun around on his heels and raised both eyebrows.

 

“Do you need an invitation?”

 

***

 

“I'm just gonna spend the day with my kid.”

 

“I know.”

 

“It's not that I don't want you around, it's just that...”

 

“I know.”

 

Ian's smile was soft and gentle. He was lying across the bed in only his boxers as Mickey was getting dressed. After the hand job in the kitchen the night before, they had gone to bed without doing more than cuddling and had woken up to intense grinding, coming in their underwear like teenagers. They hadn't tried actual fucking again after that disastrous first time, but Mickey wasn't in a rush, and he was even surprised by how much he enjoyed the casual intimacy and craved for more innocent cuddling. He finished buttoning his shirt and looked down at Ian's beautiful sprawled out body.

 

“I'll see you tonight?” (He hadn't meant to make it sound like a question, but Ian's smile was reassuring.)

 

“I'll be there.”

 

***

 

Yevgeny was probably happy to see his father, but Mickey wouldn't have guessed with the way his son's focus stayed glued to the movie he was watching. Mandy suggested they let him finish and dragged her brother to the kitchen where she offered him a cup of coffee. Mickey gladly accepted, he had left his house without taking the time for breakfast that morning and he seriously lacked caffeine.

 

“So, how is it going with your _husband_?” Mandy asked with a little smirk at the word.

 

“Fine.” Mickey shrugged, hiding behind his mug. “He's an okay guy.”

 

“Is he hot?”

 

“How am I supposed to know?”

 

“Have you fucked him yet?”

 

“Mandy, he's a dude!”

 

“My point exactly.”

 

Mickey stared at his sister who was looking at him with this giant grin on her face. What was she on about? Did she...? How did she know? His gaze dropped down to his cup of coffee. He had no intention of talking about this right now, if not ever. He finished the hot liquid too quickly, burning his tongue, and handed the mug back to Mandy before heading to the living room to finish the movie with his son.

 

“I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about.” he added just as he was leaving the kitchen.

 

***

 

After enduring another half an hour of the latest Disney movie, Mickey, Mandy and Yevgeny went to the nearest McDonald's for lunch before heading to the neighborhood park for some fresh air. Svetlana was usually the one taking their son to the playground as Mickey hated being around so many other shouting kids and parents, but he made an exception this time, and Yevgeny was too happy to show his dad his progress on the monkey bars for Mickey to regret his decision.

 

They had been hanging around the park for about fifteen minutes when Mandy approached her brother, sucking on the straw of her smoothie in a way that should have been prohibited in a playground for children.

 

“There's a hot dude eyeing you.” she said. “At first I thought he was interested in me, but I think it's actually you.”

 

Mickey rolled his eyes, but still followed her glance to a bench on the other side of the swings, where a very familiar redhead was looking at him.

 

“Mother fucker.” Mickey muttered before marching right up to him and grabbing him by the elbow, dragging him out of earshot. “The fuck are you doing here?”

 

“I didn't know you would be here.” Ian apologized. “I went to visit my sister, she lives just down the street.”

 

He pointed at a young redheaded girl catching a just-as-ginger toddler from the slide. Mickey sighed. Ian had mentioned having family in the neighborhood, and they did look related, plus he didn't think the man was that much of a stalker.

 

“Okay, let's just pretend we don't know each other.”

 

Ian nodded, silently agreeing, and they were about to part ways when a small hand tugged at Mickey's sleeve and Yevgeny's voice asked:

 

“Daddy, who's your friend?”

 

Shit. Mickey closed his eyes for a second and re-opened them to see Ian looking caught like a deer in headlights and Mandy joining them with a smirk.

 

“Yes, Mickey, who's your friend?”

 

Mickey stopped himself from telling Mandy to fuck off – for Yevgeny's sake – and put a fake smile on his lips.

 

“That's... Ian. He's uh...”

 

“A colleague.” Ian supplied, extending his hand for Mandy to shake. “You must be Mickey's sister. Nice to meet you.”

 

Mandy shook his hand happily, and Ian sent an apologetic glance to Mickey before he kneeled down in front of Yevgeny, who proudly shook the redhead's hand.

 

“I'm Yevgeny. Mickey is my dad.”

 

“Nice to meet you Yevgeny.” Ian smiled, repeating his weird Russian name perfectly, and, in that instant, Mickey couldn't regret them meeting, it was... cute – if that was a word Mickey would allow himself to use.

 

“And that's my sister, Debbie.” Ian added, standing back up when the girl from earlier joined them, carrying the toddler in her arms. “And her daughter, Franny.”

 

“We were about to go get ice cream.” Mandy suddenly said, and Mickey's eyebrows shot up – since when? “You want to join us?”

 

Ian seemed to hesitate, but his sister immediately accepted, and there was no way Mickey could refuse now, so the little group left the playground together to join the ice cream truck a little further down in the park. They bought ice cream for the kids – and the adults – and then sat down around a picnic table. Mickey was, once again, thankful for Yevgeny's chattiness because he was incapable of making conversation, so he let the boy tire everybody's ears out. Until Mandy broke the spell.

 

“Too bad you're gay, Ian.” she declared. “Cause I would eat you up...”

 

Ian blushed, Debbie laughed, and Mickey punched his sister on the shoulder.

 

“What?” she said defensively. “It's true.”

 

“What's 'gay'?” Yevgeny asked, his big blue eyes looking up between his father and his aunt, and Mickey started to feel his palms sweat, he was not ready to answer this question. Thankfully, Ian came to the rescue like the perfect hero he was. He glanced between Yevgeny and Franny, addressing them both.

 

“Well, some boys like girls.” he explained gently. “But some boys like boys, and some girls like girls, and some people like both. And it's all okay.”

 

His eyes flicked briefly to Mickey on that last statement, and of course Mandy noticed, grinning even wider.

 

“So you don't like girls?” Yevgeny asked again – this kid was too curious for Mickey's sanity.

 

“I like girls as my friends.” Ian continued. “But I don't like to kiss them, I prefer to kiss boys.”

 

“Do you want to kiss my daddy?”

 

It was Mickey's turn to blush, and he was pretty sure Mandy was ready to explode in laughter. Was this kid ever shutting up?!

 

“I think your daddy prefers to kiss your mommy.” Ian replied, ever the professional.

 

“I don't know, I never see them kiss...”

 

“Okay.” Mickey interrupted – he needed to put a stop to this shit show before things really got out of hands. “Who wants to race back to the playground?”

 

Yevgeny was the first one up on his feet, followed by Franny – who was running slower and more clumsily – and then Debbie and Mandy, walking behind them at a fast pace. Mickey stayed back, he needed a moment to gather himself up. He saw Ian waiting for him, smiling softly but with a little something extra, like a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

 

“For the record,” he said as Mickey walked passed him toward the playground. “I do want to kiss you.”

 

***

  


The door of the house slammed shut as Ian pushed Mickey against it, kissing him with all of his might. It was all but innocent, Ian licking over Mickey's lips, and Mickey granting access instantaneously. Their bodies moved in harmony and neither of them could stop the moans from escaping their slotted mouths. Mickey slid his hands lower to cradle Ian's nape and pull him in closer, and Ian wrapped his arms around his waist. His strong arms gripped under Mickey's thighs and crashed them both into the nearest wall. They continued to get lost in the feeling of each other until Mickey decided to direct them to the bedroom. They got rid of their clothes shamefully fast and fell onto the bed in a mess of more kissing and moaning. At one point Mickey's brain reminded him where he wanted things to go, so he disentangled himself from the redhead to, once again, “borrow” the supplies from Svetlana's bedside table. Ian took them from his hand almost immediately, looking ready to make up from their terrible first time. He opened the cap of the bottle of lube and coated a couple of his fingers, bringing them to Mickey's ass to circle the rim with his index. He moved carefully as he slid the digit in, and Mickey groaned at the intrusion. Ian stretched Mickey out slowly, slower than the last time, but Mickey was impatient, so he thrust back, silently asking for more. And the redhead obeyed, adding a second finger and scissoring the two digits. He resumed the action only a few times, and finally took his fingers out, grabbing the condom he had put aside, tearing the package open and rolling it onto his hard dick before covering it with more lube. Mickey made himself comfortable, sliding a pillow under the small of his back as Ian kneeled between his legs. They looked at each other for a beat, and the redhead pushed himself into Mickey. Mickey released a deep breath and he heard Ian do the same thing. And the redhead started moving. He rocked slowly, keeping their bodies as connected as possible, sweat accumulating between their skin, shuddering breaths meeting somewhere in the couple of inches that were separating their faces. They took their time, they didn't want this to be over, not yet, not now. Mickey was painfully aware that what they were doing was more than just sex, but he did nothing to stop it, he even enjoyed every second of it like it was the last. They were the last two men on earth and they had nothing else planned but this.

  


Mickey felt his orgasm build too fast for his own taste, his body reminding him how long it had been since the last time he had sex – and even longer since he had last had sex with _a guy_ – and he came without warning, feeling Ian's own release spilling into the condom just a moment later.

  


***

 

Ian was drawing patterns on Mickey's skin with the tip of his fingers, which Mickey found idly pleasant. They were good, they were comfortable, they were in their own little bubble of post-sex haze. Bubble that had to be broken, obviously, because that was how things went in Mickey's life, he knew enjoying nice things was only temporary so he was prepared, but it didn't hurt less. It started with a text Svetlana sent him.

 

[From Svetlana] I think dumb piece of shit is cheating.

 

Mickey's first thought was to punch the guy, but then he looked at Ian lying naked next to him and he laughed.

 

“What is it?”

 

Mickey hesitated for only half a second before he showed the text to Ian. The redhead smiled.

 

“For once, he's not the only one.”

 

Mickey put the phone away, and when he turned back toward Ian, the redhead wasn't smiling anymore, he had a way too serious expression on his face, his head hanging low, observing his knuckles intently.

 

“I don't love him, you know.” were the words he said. “I don't think I've ever loved him. But if I did, it's long gone now.”

 

Mickey sighed, because of course Ian would say something like that, with all the underlying implications. He was already in too deep and expecting something from Mickey, something Mickey knew for sure he couldn't give him.

 

“This.” he gestured between the two of them. “This has an expiration date. Don't get fucking attached or anything, cause in eight days Svetlana is coming back, and you have to go back to Caleb and figure out your own shit. This is not some fairy tale love story, we bang, it's good, but at the end of the swap it's over.”

 

Mickey didn't know what hurt more: saying these words out loud or the look on Ian's face. He grabbed his pack of cigarette and lit one. If his hand was shaking as he did so, he pretended not to notice.

 

“No.” Ian simply said, his voice steady and determined, making Mickey's eyebrows raised in surprise – how dared he contradict him? “I don't agree to those terms. Yes, we bang and it's good, but we both know there's more and fuck you for denying it. I know you're married or whatever, and I know that you are terrified of your psychotic dad but I don't want to go back to my life pretending I never met you.”

 

Mickey exhaled the smoke slowly. Ian had fire in his eyes that were burning holes in Mickey's skull. He fucking hated this stupid redhead, he hated him for making him experience all these weird and new feelings and he hated him for not giving up easily, for putting up a fight and not letting Mickey be in charge.

 

“I don't think you should sleep here tonight.”

 

There were so many other things Mickey wanted to say, so many other directions he wanted to take, but this, at this exact moment, seemed the safest.

 

“Fine.” Ian huffed, and in a few seconds he was gone.

 

***

 

Svetlana was wearing a tight red shirt with a plunging neckline that completely contrasted with Mickey's simple gray button-up. The ill-assorted couple looked, as always, totally out of place in Dr Douglas' colorful office. Mickey was even more silent than ever, fearing that the slightest word out of his mouth would give away what he had been doing lately – or rather _who_ he had been doing. Svetlana was going on and on about her fake husband for the past week and asking if they could cut the experiment short because she could not stand the idea of living with him one more week. Mickey would have never guessed his wife would miss him that much.

 

“What about you, Mickey?” Dr Douglas asked after she nodded silently to Svetlana's complaints. “How do you feel? And how is the cohabitation going with Ian?”

 

Mickey shrugged. What was he supposed to say? That if could exchange Svetlana for Ian forever he would do it? That his sex life had never been better? That he was finally happily married?

 

“Fine.” he just muttered. “We're staying out of each other's way.”

 

That was true, at least for that morning. Ian had respected his wish a little too much and Mickey hadn't seen him since he had kicked him out of his bedroom. Dr Douglas nodded and took some notes.

 

“And how do you feel about your marriage with Svetlana? Your wife seems eager to come back to you, are you sharing her enthusiasm?”

 

Mickey looked at Svetlana sitting next to him, she was staring at him with this warning gaze telling him he better not fuck up his answer or he was a dead man. And he really wish he didn't care about her threats.

 

“I don't hate my new roommate as much as she does, but yeah I guess it'll be nice to go back to normal.”

 

As on cue, Dr Douglas hummed and scribbled down some more notes.

 

“Alright. As you may have guessed, we will have to continue the swap for one more week, as planned, but I am glad to see that you actively want to go back to being married to each other, it means something is working here.”

 

If he could have, Mickey would have both punch the nearest wall and burst into tears, but instead he stayed stoic and nodded along for the rest of the session.

 

***

 

As they parted, Svetlana said she would spend the rest of the day to the spa and the nail salon – Mickey was glad she took these weeks apart and away from Yevgeny as a little vacation – and Mickey went to Mandy's to see their son. They spent the afternoon playing and eating candy, and Mickey left as his son was running around the apartment, high on sugar, burdening his sister with the task of calming the boy down and putting him to bed.

 

He parked in the driveway of his house just as Ian was running back down the street, in jogging pants and a tank top, headphones on, sweating in all the right places. They both entered the house without exchanging a word, and Ian went directly to lock himself in the bathroom. Mickey dropped his keys on the little table in the entrance and grabbed a beer from the fridge. When he heard the water running in the shower, he opened one of the drawers in the kitchen and chose one Chinese menu to order from – the idea of letting Ian cook tonight didn't sit quite right with him. The food arrived about half an hour later, and the two men sat quietly on the couch, turning the TV on to fill the tense silence. It was only halfway through a terrible Adam Sandler movie that Ian spoke first.

 

“We had an appointment with Dr Douglas today, to review the first week of the swap.” he stated. “It didn't go so well. We basically just screamed at each other for the whole hour, and Caleb more or less admitted that he never stopped seeing his girl. So I told him I was seeing somebody else too.”

 

Mickey's head turned so fast toward the redhead that it almost snapped.

 

“You told him?”

 

“I didn't tell him it was you.” Ian sighed. “I just said that I slept with another guy. I didn't say when or where, just that he was better than him in every way.”

 

A part of Mickey was flattered and proud, but another, bigger part, was freaking out at the idea that Dr Douglas could connect the dots. She was bound to doctor-patient confidentially, right? Right?

 

“What did Dr Douglas say?” he managed to ask without breaking.

 

“Not much. She just listened, nodded and took notes, her usual. I honestly don't know if she's that good of a therapist.”

 

They both shared a laugh, because that was probably true, she had them exchange spouses after all.

 

“I still stand by what I said yesterday.” Ian added, immediately informing Mickey that this wouldn't be a casual evening and that they would have to _talk_. “I like you, and I want to see where this – us – can go, no matter what it takes.”

 

“No matter what it takes?” Mickey repeated, suddenly angry at Ian's naivete. “So a fag bash and probably a bullet between the eyes, that's what you fucking want? Cause that's what it'll take!”

 

“Yes.” Ian deadpan answered, his body now facing Mickey completely. “I know I've only known you for a week, and I know it's probably insane, but this is exactly what I'm ready to risk because that's how much I like you, how much I want to be with you.”

 

“You're right.” Mickey shot back, feeling the tears gather at the corner of his eyes. “This is fucking insane! You are really, really fucking stupid.”

 

Ian grabbed the back of his neck and crashed their lips together. They kissed softly, slowly and lingering. Mickey let his hands slide up Ian’s back and grip his hair, and Ian sighed against his mouth as their tongues slid together. He bit Mickey’s lip gently, then slightly harder; pulling it softly away from his gum line before releasing it. With a final nip to Mickey’s lower lip, Ian pulled back with a smile.

  


“I don't want you to get killed.” Mickey whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

 

“I don't want you to get killed either.” Ian replied just as low.

 

***

 

The following few days were a haze of sex and marital bliss only interrupted by mandatory time apart when one or both men needed to go to work. And Mickey was happy, so happy he wasn't even sure this was his life anymore, he didn't remember ever being so happy. He was smiling to himself when he was alone and thinking about the man waiting for him at home, he felt like bouncing off the walls every time he received a text from him, and his skin was on fire every time they touched. He enjoyed the cuddles and the platonic hanging out in front of the TV just as much as the sex, and he avoided more than ever thinking about the end of the swap. He wasn't ready to give up on Ian and on being “married” to him, and he didn't know how to handle it, so he dealt with the problem as best as he could, by ignoring it.

 

And after a long boring day at work, nothing was better than coming back to a home-cooked meal by his man and a couple of round of hot sex in their bed. Thick moans and groans filled the room as Mickey rode the perfect man lying underneath him. His fingers sinking in the soft white skin of Ian's chest. The slight sound of skin slapping against skin only competing with the men's heavy breathing to fill the silence. Mickey stretched his neck backwards and sped up his rhythm, riding the redhead a little harder, bringing the tip of his cock slamming against his prostate, sweat dropping down his back, his thighs starting to burn.

  


“Fuck. Fuck.”

  


Ian gripped at Mickey's hips, controlling his movements, bringing him down harder on his cock with every other thrust. Both pairs of eyes were shut in pleasure, muffled groans escaping their throats. Mickey swallowed dryly, doing his best to speed up even more, completely bouncing on the other man's dick by now, forcing it inside of him over and over again.

  


And suddenly, everything came crashing down. Svetlana barged into the room, rambling something about Dr Douglas and stopping mid-sentence at the sight of the two men in her bed. Mickey rolled out and away from Ian, and they both covered themselves with the nearest sheet.

  


“The fuck are you doing here?”

  


Svetlana opened her mouth, then closed it, her brows furrowing.

  


“Carrot boy, out.” she ordered, pointing a finger toward the door.

  


Ian quickly scrambled to get dressed, obeying her demand, but Mickey was faster to put his boxers back on and went to stand between his wife and his lover.

  


“No. He's staying.”

  


He was slightly shorter than Svetlana when she wore her heels, but he kept his eyes fixed on her, making himself tall and showing he wasn't afraid of her. Ian kept getting dressed though.

  


“It's okay.” he muttered. “I don't mind going.”

  


“Gallagher.” Mickey said lowly, not looking away from Svetlana. “If you want to see that ass again, you're not moving.”

  


The threat was strong enough, Ian stood still behind Mickey, a silent observer of the scene.

  


“What your father's gonna say when I tell him?” Svetlana asked, an almost invisible smirk on her tight lips.

  


“Go ahead, tell him.” Mickey shot back. “I bought you back from your fucking pimp, and gave you a fucking decent life, with a roof over your head and food in your belly, but if you want to go back to my dad and open your fucking mouth, the door is plenty wide enough for you to walk the fuck out. He'll be very happy to have you back sucking his dick and share you with all of his drunk friends.”

  


Svetlana stared at him heatedly, and Mickey stared right back. They supported each other's gaze for a long minute before Svetlana backed off, muttering something in Russian and walking away from the bedroom.

  


“That was so hot.” Ian breathed out, placing his hand on the small of Mickey's back.

  


“I might throw up though.” Mickey admitted, feelings his legs shake and stepping back into Ian's hold.

  


***

  


For the remaining three days of the experiment, Svetlana slept in Yevgeny's room and she avoided the house as much as possible. Every time she was around at the same time than Ian and Mickey though, the atmosphere was tense and cold. Ian tried to break the ice a few times with a smile or a kind word to Svetlana, but she promptly ignored him each and every time. On Saturday, she decided to spend the entire day alone with Yevgeny, and Mickey and Ian took advantage of the peaceful house to be together one last time before the uncertainty of the swap review with Dr Douglas. And, on Sunday morning, the three of them drove to the office. Ian and Caleb were going first, and at the sight of the other man, Mickey immediately squared his shoulders. Ian gave him a reassuring smile before he entered the room and disappeared out of Mickey's vision.

  


“Your dad will kill you.” Svetlana said casually as she grabbed a magazine from the pile in the waiting room.

  


“Did you tell him?”

  


And as he asked the question, Mickey realized that he wasn't afraid, he was ready to face whatever shit would come his way. He was tired of hiding, tired of running from his psychotic dad, tired of being a frightened little boy.

  


“No.” Svetlana said. “But he will know.”

  


Mickey understood that she wouldn't tell him, but she was right, he would know. One way or another, he would know. And he would deal with that. Later.

  


“I'm not going to kick you out.” he said as nicely as possible. “But you're going to have to accept that Ian is in my life now. Okay?”

  


Svetlana nodded.

  


“And Yevgeny?” she asked.

  


“He'll be fine. Kid's smart.”

  


***

  


“I'm gay.”

  


It was the scariest and the most liberating thing Mickey had ever said out loud, and Dr Douglas simply nodded. She kept her notebook closed on her laps and looked at him, silently urging him to continue.

  


“I... I've never loved Svetlana, but I guess I tolerate her. And being married to her was... convenient.”

  


“But now you want to be with Ian.”

  


“Yes. Wait... how did you know?”

  


Dr Douglas hinted her first smile of the session.

  


“He talked quite a lot about you.”

  


Mickey's heart beat a little bit faster. He hoped Ian talked about him in good terms, but he wasn't about to ask their therapist about that, he still had some dignity left.

  


“My husband likes dick up his ass.” Svetlana felt necessary to add. “What can you do?” she shrugged with a little sigh, resigning herself to the idea.

  


***

  


“I'm so glad we found an eccentric hippie therapist with strange ideas.” Ian muttered in the crook of Mickey's neck that night.

  


“Me too, Gallagher.” Mickey replied with a smile. “Me too.”

  


They still had a lot of things to figure out, and a lot more challenges coming their way, but as they fell asleep in each other's arms one more time, Mickey just felt content.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said they were exchanging “spouses” but Caleb and Ian weren't actually married, just long-term boyfriends. Just FYI.
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave kudos and/or comments. And you can also come talk and share with me on my [tumblr](http://ilostmylifeonline.tumblr.com/), it's always appreciated. :)


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